[June 6th] [Perry Mason] Lux Aeterna, 6

[insaneladybug.livejournal.com]

Title: Lux Aeterna, scene 6
Day/Theme: June 6th - Deep roots
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Deputy D.A. Sampson, Hamilton Burger, a nameless guard
Rating: T/PG-13

This happened both because I've wanted for some time to try to explore and humanize the blustery and arrogant Sampson from season 4, and because I realized that in some ways, Miles Edgeworth reminds me a bit of him, at least in the Phoenix Wright manga series. (Not the silly ones with lots of random stories, but the actual casefile ones currently being released by Kodansha.)

Takes place in no particularly specified time.


By Lucky_Ladybug

It was true, what he had always heard.

Many thoughts went through your head when you were about to die.

Even as the spear flew at him and he struggled desperately to dodge, his thoughts were racing, a cacophony of the past few hours.

That morning, everything had been normal and he had been in the esteemed district attorney’s private office. . . .
****
“Excuse me, you want to do what, now?!”

Deputy district attorney Sampson stood firm and unwavering in front of Hamilton Burger’s desk. “You’ve been saying how someone needs to infiltrate Florence’s payroll. Why not me?”

Hamilton sighed, setting down a pencil he had been holding. “I said it needed to be someone Florence wouldn’t suspect, someone without any ties to us. She would suspect you.”

“You don’t think it could be made convincing?”

“Well, maybe it could,” Hamilton conceded. “But there’s a heavy risk. I don’t want to send you into that.”

“I want to do my part, Mr. Burger. I’ve barely done anything other than attend the late-night gatherings.” Sampson leaned forward with his hands on the desk. “Don’t you understand, Sir?”

“Yes, I do. You want to be important.” Hamilton leaned back, looking so tired. “But right now I just don’t see what could be accomplished by this kind of stunt. Florence could see through it, just like she and Vivalene did when Lieutenant Anderson tried to get information out of her. And you know what happened to him.”

“He was nearly killed.” Sampson straightened.

“And he’s a trained professional,” Hamilton added. “You haven’t even studied how to go undercover!”

“Maybe the problem was that he was too polished. If I go in rough around the edges, so to speak, I might be more believable than he was.”

“Sampson, that wasn’t the problem.” Hamilton clasped his hands and leaned forward. “Those girls did research on him and knew that he was lying when he said he and Lieutenant Tragg weren’t close. Now, Florence is thorough. What makes you think she wouldn’t have researched you too? Then she would know all about your unwavering loyalty to this office.”

Sampson sighed, relenting at last. “Very well then, Mr. Burger. I won’t trouble you about it again.”

“Good.” But Hamilton regarded him in concern. “You realize I’m only concerned for your safety, and everyone else’s? If you were found out, you might put all of us in danger.”

“Yes, Mr. Burger.”

“I do want your help.” Hamilton handed him a folder. “I need you to handle this case. I already have one this afternoon and I can’t be in two places at once.”

Sampson accepted it. “I’ll do my best, Sir.”

“Thank you.” Hamilton looked as though he wanted to say something else but was weighing whether or not he should. Sampson lingered, waiting. At last Hamilton added, “Do you remember what we discussed last time?”

Sampson stiffened a bit now. He had wondered if and when this was coming. “I do. You requested that I be more patient with the witnesses, even when they’re blatantly disregarding my instructions.”

“I know it’s frustrating,” Hamilton said. “But you have to remember that most of the witnesses are frightened or even traumatized people. It won’t help to yell and badger them. All it really does is make both you and this office look bad.”

Hamilton had used even stronger terms in their prior discussion. He had flat-out told Sampson that it was largely because of attitudes such as his that prosecutors were the recipients of such derogatory media attention and stereotyped as the bad guys.

Sampson had smarted for days after that lecture. He was an arrogant and prideful person who did not like at all to be checked. And when it was done by one of the few people he held in high esteem it was far worse.

“I remember, Mr. Burger,” he said now. “I’ve been trying to watch myself.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Hamilton said. “You’re a skilled assistant district attorney, Sampson. I’m looking forward to having you as part of this office for a long time.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Sampson moved to leave. “I’ll go to my office and look through this file.”

“Go ahead,” Hamilton nodded.
****
The rest of the workday really proceeded quite normally. Both Hamilton and Sampson went to court with their respective cases. Hamilton secured a conviction against the murder suspect he was prosecuting, while Sampson succeeded in binding his over for trial in a preliminary hearing.

Sampson finished first. He collected his belongings and headed into the parking garage. It was lonely and mostly empty by this time of evening. Florence’s night guards were already starting to come out. In fact, it looked like one of them was patrolling right outside the garage.

That was unusual. Frowning, Sampson wandered closer. “Excuse me?” he called. “What is your business here?”

The guard whipped around, a spear gun in hand. “I’ve elected to capture a prisoner for Lady Florence,” he declared with bold matter-of-factness.

He really wasn’t much younger than Sampson himself. And Sampson was both appalled and amused by his announcement. “Do you honestly believe you will be able to secure one by broadcasting your intentions?” he exclaimed.

That only made the impulsive guard angry and indignant. “If I can’t, I’ll just eliminate them instead. One less rebel for Lady Florence to worry about.” He pointed the gun at Sampson. “I know you work in the district attorney’s office. That makes you a person of interest.”

Sampson batted the gun away with his briefcase. “It also makes you in very big trouble,” he retorted.

The youth’s eyes flashed. “Lady Florence will thank me for bringing you in, dead or alive!” he cried as he pulled the trigger. The spear shot out, directly at Sampson.

In desperation he rolled out of the way, his heart gathering speed at the near miss. The boy, for some strange reason, idolized that witch. He was carrying on now because he hoped to impress her.

And that wasn’t so different from Sampson with Mr. Burger (save for the obvious difference that Mr. Burger was honest and good). Sampson was seeking Mr. Burger’s approval and recognition. But if he went about it as half-cocked as this boy, he would never succeed.

Only . . . was that what he had done? Perhaps that was what had often prompted his actions against the witnesses. Perhaps even what had made him want to work undercover to assist the resistance. And if he had tried to infiltrate and been found out, it would have been disastrous. He was fighting for his life right now. Could he have lasted on an undercover mission?

Maybe Mr. Burger was right. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for it right now.

He looked over. The guard had one other spear with him. He was firing it now. Sampson dove aside and the weapon slammed into the rear tire of a nearby car. Immediately it sank down, the air leaking out of it.

That gave him an idea. Pulling out the spear, he pointed it at the wide-eyed youth. “That is enough,” he snapped. “Now you will be detained by the district attorney’s office.”

The boy froze, too stunned and upset to so much as move.
****
Sampson felt a certain sense of pride and accomplishment when he turned the guard over to two officers who he knew were still upright. But he felt something else too, something that for once overshadowed his other feelings.

He was sobered by what had happened. He had almost been killed, without even trying to enact his outlandish plan. Both he and the guard had wanted to perform outside their elements. The guard was in custody now. He was lucky it wasn’t for murder. And Sampson was lucky he wasn’t the victim.

He met Mr. Burger coming back to his office while he was still deep in thought. Hamilton regarded him in surprise. “Sampson, what happened?” he asked. “How did your case go?”

“Hmm? Oh. It went well, Mr. Burger.” Sampson looked to the older man, into the eyes that had been filled with genuine concern for his safety. Hamilton looked puzzled now, not sure what was going on but realizing that something significant had.

“Are you sure?” he queried. “You act like you’re not really here.”

Sampson nodded. “I’m not surprised. Mr. Burger, I just wanted to thank you. And . . . and to tell you that you were right.” It was still difficult for him to say it, with his prideful nature. But he had said it. And Mr. Burger looked surprised more than anything else.

“Right? About what?” he wondered.

“Many things.” Sampson offered him a hand to shake. Hamilton took it, slowly, hesitantly. Sampson gripped it in response. “I want you to know that I won’t be pursuing the idea of infiltrating Florence’s operations. At least not for some time.”

Now Hamilton’s grip tightened. “I’m glad,” he said. “But what brought this on?”

Sampson pondered his answer. “I looked in a mirror,” he said at last. “And I realized that what I was seeing was what you had already seen.”

Hamilton was sure there was more to it than that. But he did not push.

“I will stay with what I know how to do,” Sampson continued. “And I will resolve to perform better than I have.”

Hamilton smiled. “I know you can,” he said. “To tell you the truth, I used to be a lot like you, as far as having an impulsive temper went. I still have trouble with that sometimes,” he mumbled.

“Then there is hope for me,” Sampson said. He was amazed, both by this insight and by his changing attitude. It seemed to him that he and Mr. Burger had grown a bit closer from this exchange. And he found it very welcome.

“Yes,” Hamilton said, still smiling. “A lot of hope.

“What do you say we grab some dinner somewhere?”

Sampson’s eyes flickered with surprise. “I would like that, Sir,” he said. “But first I think I should tell you—we have one of Florence’s guards in custody.”

Hamilton stopped and stared. “What?! How did that happen?!”

“Well,” Sampson said, “it’s a long story.”

“I’ve got the time,” Hamilton retorted.

“Of course, Sir.” They started to walk towards the elevators. “It started with a spear.”

“. . . A spear.”

“Yes.”

“. . . This is going to be interesting.”